Emerald Concerto
by GideonNoir
Summary: Set after Eldest. Galbatorix sends Murtagh to find the next rider, a seemingly impossible mission. What will happen he finds her?
1. Prelude

I own none of the characters here; Christopher Paolini does.

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Murtagh sighed as he walked down the cold hall in Galbatorix's castle to then dragon keep. It had only been two days since he had returned from the battle with the Varden, and he had just received orders to find and capture the next dragon rider. It would be harder than looking for a needle in a haystack. How Murtagh was supposed to accomplish such an impossible task, he had not the faintest idea. It was probably Galbatorix's punishment for his failure to capture Eragon and Saphira.

Reaching the keep, Murtagh told Thorn their orders through their mental link. Thorn heaved a huge sigh of annoyance. _How exactly does he expect us to do such a thing?_

_I don't know. I suppose we can comb the empire's towns and villages for likely candidates and bring them one by one to the castle… _Murtagh felt Thorn mulling this suggestion over, and then felt his consent. He gathered a few necessities for the trip. He then grabbed his saddle and slung it over Thorn's ruby shoulders. After double-checking all of the straps, Murtagh climbed into the saddle.

"Ready, Thorn?"

_I always am. _Thorn dropped gracefully into the open space of the keep and crouched. Through their link, Murtagh felt his leg and haunch muscles bunch. With a great gust of wind, rider and dragon were swallowed by the sky.

Sorry this chapter is so short… it's meant as more of a prelude than a full-blown chapter.


	2. Solidute Sonata

Hello again, folks! Once again, I'd like to remind you that Murtagh and co., as well as the setting, are © Christopher Paolini. The story really starts here. Please review; I like to know how I'm doing.

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The soft rosy light of dawn kissed the treetops of the forest around the lake Fläm and awoke a small sleeping figure on the ground. The dappled morning light revealed a young woman not more than eighteen years old. As she sat up, her warm chestnut hair fell in soft waves around her face and hung to her shoulder blades. The warm light found sharp, mint-green eyes that gazed out from a pale face with proud, elegant eyebrows.

She stretched her lean body to rid her muscles of the night's stiffness. The ever-shifting morning light played along her body, revealing her features. Her flat chest and narrow hips gave her a boyish look, despite her thin waist.

The girl's keen eyes never stopped moving, catching every detail of the forest around her. After her wiry muscles were loosened and warm, she folded her blanket and stuffed it into her pack, which she slung onto her back. Then, she buckled on her narrow belt that held her long knife in a simple sheath. Finally, she bent to pick up her beloved mandolin in its case and put carefully slipped it onto her back next to her pack.

_Should I head back to town today? _A slight frown crossed her face, as she knew the answer and did not like it. _I should, but I don't feel like it yet. _

Her mind returned to three days earlier in her town as she began walking.

_"Alexander," said a smooth voice from behind. _

_Alexander whipped around. Standing there was a tall, lanky young man with black hair and grey eyes._

_"Hello, Mendhem."_

_"Why so cold, Alex?" He took a step closer, a hungry light in his eyes._

_"Get away from me, Mendhem."_

_"This is how you treat the man who cares so much for you? Who would have you as his wife? Have you no heart?"_

_"Yes. You, however, _do _have one, and if you don't piss off, I will rip it out."_

_"An exaggerated look of hurt filled Mendhem's face. "You wouldn't…Oh, Alexander, when will you give in?" He stepped even closer and reached for her hand._

_Alexander grabbed his wrist. In a single fluid movement, she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him into a wall._

_"Don't touch me," she hissed into his ear._

_"Or what?" Mendhem asked through clenched teeth. "You'll kill me?"_

_Alexander pressed his arm into his back harder, causing him to draw a sharp breath. "Yes."_

_She released him suddenly and turned, walking away; she didn't care what Mendhem did now. A stranger stood partially hidden around the corner of the building. His face seemed familiar… but Alexander couldn't put her finger on why. He watched her walk by, and she glared back. Had he seen the whole thing?_

_Alexander shook her head after she rounded another corner. No matter; he was of no concern at the moment. All Alexander wanted was to get out of there. She needed a break. She walked quickly to her home and gathered a few necessities, including her prized mandolin. Then she simply walked out of town._

That brought Alexander back to the present, in the richly coloured and shadowed forest. The forest seemed to have a calming power over her. Sometimes she felt that without it, she would have certainly killed someone, probably Mendhem, long ago.

Alexander headed towards where she knew a small, pure brook ran. She knew the forest like she knew the back of her hand. Every tree and stone was a familiar friend.

This familiarity came from countless forest visits over the years. Alexander's first visit was the result of a row with her parents when she was six years old. Two days later, the townspeople found her sitting in the crook of a giant oak's roots, chatting to a fox while stroking its russet fur. The townspeople called her a demon child for weeks, and some never lost their suspicions. After that, the forest became Alexander's refuge from frustrations, and its inhabitants became her closest friends.

Alexander reached the brook and knelt beside the clear, chuckling waters. Slipping off her pack and mandolin, she dipped her hands into the icy water and cupped them. She brought her hands to her lips and drank deeply, feeling the cold trickle down her throat and thread its way through her body.

Something rustled in the undergrowth. Alexander froze. The noise came from behind her. Calmly, she relaxed her muscles to look unaware and analyzed the rustling. _It's too big to be a fox, and it doesn't sound like a deer. It sounds like no animal from these woods I know of, although we are on the foothills of the Spine… Strange things happen in the Spine…_

Unable to recognise the creature, Alexander reached out for it with her mind, as she would with the animals of the forest. She almost gasped as she met a thick barrier. Whatever it was, it was definitely not something she was familiar with. A chill ran down Alexander's spine as the rustling stopped.

A shadow moved beside Alexander on the ground, and she made her move. She drew her knife and spun with lightning speed, slashing at the stalker behind her.

The world blurred. Alexander had a brief moment to realize that her feet were no longer underneath her before her back slammed into the ground, driving the air out of her lungs, followed by her head. The weight of her attacker's body pressed her to the ground, and his hands held her wrists firmly down. Helpless.

Alexander found herself staring into the face of the stranger she had glared at three days ago, just before leaving town.

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This is the real first chapter. Can you guess who the stranger is?


	3. Strangers Schertzo

Hello again, folks! Sorry it took so long for this chapter, but junior year at my school is tough! Remember, the only things that belong to me are the words and Alexander! Everything else belongs to Christopher Paolini.

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Murtagh lay on top of the girl he had been carefully tracking for the past three days, holding her arms down to keep her from using her long knife. Her long, coppery hair was spilled over the ground like ripples in a pond. Her eyes, inches from his, were full of shock and wide with terror.

Taking a second to think, Murtagh realized that, had he been a millisecond slower, his throat would have been cut. Inwardly, he cursed his carelessness; the girl had heard him in the brush. It nearly cost him his life.

Thorn's concern flowed into Murtagh's mind, and Murtagh had to assure the dragon that he was fine for fear that he would fly to his rider's aid. Thorn was curious, but Murtagh assured him that everything would be explained later.

"What are you going to do to me?" The girl's voice was strained, as if she was struggling to breathe. Somehow that wasn't surprising. Murtagh could feel her heart fluttering against his chest.

"I promise to get off of you if promise not to stab me," Murtagh said soothingly.

The girl blinked in surprise. Murtagh felt her muscles tense, and then relax. She released her grip on the knife. Murtagh let go of her wrists and slid into a kneeling position beside her.

She drew a large breath, her chest suddenly free of Murtagh's weight, but then coughed violently. Murtagh grimaced; he knew all too well what being winded from falling on your back felt like. He placed a cool hand on her forehead until her coughs subsided and her breathing steadied.

"Are you alright?" Murtagh asked softly.

The girl nodded, keeping he eyes on his. "My ribs and back hurt, but I've had worse." Her voice was breathy and a bit hoarse from the coughs.

Murtagh slipped a hand underneath her back at the base of her neck and helped her to sit up. "I'm sorry. You had every right to attack me, but I couldn't let you kill me."

The girl, _young woman_, Murtagh realized, gave him a weak smile. It occurred to Murtagh that she was quite pretty, beautiful, even. _Where have I seen her before?_

"You were following me." It was an accusation, not a question. Her eyes held his firmly. "Why?"

Murtagh kept his eyes steady on hers. "I saw you and that man three days ago."

The young woman raised one slender eyebrow. "And?"

Murtagh shrugged. "I followed out of curiosity, I suppose." He couldn't tell her the real reason he had followed, the feeling he had when he saw her three days ago. His instincts had told him to follow her; she could be the one!

The young woman nodded, accepting his explanation, but then closed her eyes as if in pain. If Murtagh's hand hadn't still been on her back, she would have fallen backwards. _She must have hit her head harder than I thought…_ Her eyes fluttered open immediately, though.

"Oy…"

Murtagh frowned in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes… I just moved my head too fast. Could you help me up?"

Nodding, Murtagh said, "Of course." He moved his hand to her elbow, and wrapped the other arm around her waist. She was thin; he could feel her ribs against his arm.

Murtagh stood slowly and pulled her up with him. The young woman wobbled a bit, so Murtagh couldn't let go just yet. "Are you still dizzy?"

"I'm fine."

Murtagh knew otherwise, so though she tried to push away, he didn't let her go. He knew she would fall if he let go. "You touched my mind earlier, before we had our little… skirmish."

She stiffened, and then tried to push away, but it was useless; Murtagh was much stronger than her. She avoided his eyes. In a voice worthy of Galbatorix himself, she ordered, "Let me go."

Murtagh sighed. He could tell that she was growing very frustrated with him, and he didn't want to get on her bad side. He let her go.

The young woman swayed for a brief moment, but quickly regained her balance. She bent to pick up her knife and sheathed it. She slung her pack onto her back, but paid more care with her mandolin case. After sliding the strap over her shoulder carefully, she began walking along the bank of the brook. Murtagh followed a few paces behind her.

_Wher have I seen her before?_

Thorn sensed his confusion and demanded his explanation. _It's later. _Murtagh told the dragon quickly through their link. Thorn seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing. _Talk to her. Try to find something out about her. You can't loose her, if your instincts are correct. You might also find out where you remember her from._

It was good advice. _Thanks, Thorn._

Murtagh quickened his pace to catch up to the young woman. He noticed that he was almost a head taller than her. She moved with cat-like grace, all fluid motion. Murtagh also noticed that her clothes were finely made. Her long maroon coat must have cost at least an average commoner's yearly profits, likely more. She was obviously well off.

Glancing at the young woman's mandolin, Murtagh tried to strike up a conversation. "How good are you with the mandolin?"

A small, private smile spread across her lips. "I'd say I'm fairly good with it."

"Would you be kind enough to play a tune for me?"

Her smile sweetened and her eyes shone with amusement. Murtagh suspected she was laughing at him inside. "Of course."

Sitting on a fallen tree trunk, the young woman motioned for Murtagh to join her. He sat about two feet to her left, body turned to face her. She took her mandolin out of its case and began deftly tuning it. It was teardrop-shaped mandolin, dyed a deep, dark red.

_I've seen that mandolin before…_

Then it struck him- he knew who she was.

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Yay! Ch.3… 2, really, finished! Writing cliff-hangers is fun… If you don't know what a mandolin is, you need to get a life. Look it up on Google. Alexander's mandolin's shape is called an A-model, and they generally have a sweeter, softer sound than the more common F mandolins. That's it for now, folks! Ch. 4 commin' soon.


	4. Red Mandolin Reels

Hello again! Sorry it's taken so long for the update, but I have reasons! I was visiting an animal sanctuary in Oklahoma for two weeks, and since I got back I've been too busy to write the next chapter until now… gomen nasai!

Alexander finally plays her mando! If you don't know what a mandolin is, look it up. For the tune she plays, think along the lines of _Ode to a Butterfly _by Nickel Creek.

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Alexander felt the man tense next to her as she finished tuning her mandolin. She frowned and turned her head to him.

"Are you okay? Something wrong?"

He loosened up and shook his head. He looked directly into her eyes. "I remember you. You're that famous musician from Galbatorix's court, Alexander… the youngest Royal Musician and the best bassist and mandolinist in Alagaesia."

Alexander smiled with a light blush. That was her. She had been made a Royal Musician at the age of fourteen, a huge honour for a musician of any age. The Royal Musicians were chosen by Galbatorix himself to play at his court after intense competitions. Alexander remembered the competitions. That had been the That one so young as Alexander had been chosen sent waves of disbelief through the realm, and she'd had to prove herself repeatedly to the other musicians. As a result, she was now one of the lead musicians of the court.

"Yeah, that's me—" She stopped suddenly. Alexander realized with a start where she had seen the young man before. "I've seen you at the royal court during performances. You're a courtier." She made it a statement. _A courtier, shit…_

The young man sighed. Alexander's wariness must have showed. "Yes." His voice was neutral on top, but held an undercurrent of sadness and regret.

Confused, Alexander leaned slightly toward him. "I'm sorry…? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no… it's okay. I'm just not particularly fond of the court." He looked up again and smiled. His eyes were a beautiful rich brown, a few shades lighter than his hair. They were infinitely deep, like wells of knowledge and emotion.

"What's your name?"

With a small smile, he answered, "Murtagh."

Alexander nodded. The name didn't ring a bell, which probably meant he wasn't an enemy. She had a habit of rubbing courtiers the wrong way, put politely. Since she didn't recognize Murtagh's name, she decided he was safe. "Well, Murtagh, do you have a particular song in mind?"

Murtagh nodded, his smile brightening. "Do you know _Song for Spring _by Lanna Wyden?"

Alexander grinned, and Murtagh blushed. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing… of course I know the song. It's just not what I would expect a young man to request. I'd expect… something darker."

A smile crept onto Murtagh's lips. "I am not most young men."

"We know now." Alexander smirked as she said it. Murtagh's smile widened.

Rolling her eyes, Alexander put her pick to the strings and began the song. It was one of her favourite tunes. The song was fast and bright, and required a great amount of skill to play, but Alexander made it look easy. Her fingers danced along the strings deftly, the mandolin's voice filling the woods.

When Alexander came to the end of the song, she let the effort show, sagging over her instrument. Looking up, she found Murtagh's gaze fixed on her. Alexander felt heat creep into her cheeks and lowered her head, frowning.

"What?"

Murtagh shook his head. "Nothing; it was beautiful! You play so effortlessly, I can't help but be amazed."

Alexander's blush deepened. She'd always gotten flustered when it came to compliments on her music.

"What's this?" Murtagh exclaimed, voice laden with exaggerated incredulity. "The Realm's most legendary musician, modest?"

_Teasing. He's teasing me! _Still blushing a little, Alexander turned and gave him a mock glare. She shoved him playfully on the shoulder and said, "Would you rather I be egotistical?"

Laughing, Murtagh pushed her back a bit harder.

"Hey!"

Murtagh grinned. "Hey, yourself! You started it."

Alexander set her mandolin safely down and, with a raucous laugh, pounced on him.

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Finally, Ch.3 is up. Please continue reading! TTFN, ta-ta for now!


	5. Dissidence Toccata

Sorry for the loooong delay in the update… forgive me! I'd been too busy with school to type this up, but now it's finished! This chapter is longer than the previous ones. It just didn't seem to want to end.

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Murtagh saw the pounce coming and let Alexander tackle him. He did have a few unfair advantages, after all. Murtagh fell off the log with a cry, taking Alexander with him.

They landed in a heap on the ground with a _thump_. Their playful shoving turned into a wrestling match that ended with Alexander trapped underneath Murtagh. He realized with a start that, for the second time that day, he had pinned her underneath his body. Laughing, Murtagh rolled onto his back beside Alexander.

They both lay chuckling on the ground, gazing up at the sky through the foliage, unwilling to get up. The laughs faded into silence, which stretched on until Alexander finally turned onto her side to face Murtagh.

"How old are you, Murtagh?"

Murtagh smiled and answered, "I turned nineteen just last month. And you?"

Alexander cocked an eyebrow. "You're a courtesan and you don't know my age? Wow, I thought I was a favourite discussion topic of Galbatorix's court. Not that I'm complaining."

"I try to stay out of court gossip whenever possible. I only know that you were fourteen when you were named a Royal Musician."

"And you don't know how long ago that was?" Alexander shook her head, an incredulous pitying look on her face.

"I don't keep track of time very well."

She laughed. "Then guess my age."

Murtagh frowned and thought for a moment. "Hmmm… eighteen?"

Alexander rolled her eyes. "A tad-bit high. I'm a little over seventeen."

Thorn chose that moment to cut into Murtagh's thoughts. _Just two years younger. She'd be perfect for you._

_Quiet, Thorn. _Murtagh cut the dragon off. Lately Thorn had been pressuring his rider to find a "mate." Most young men Murtagh's age were married or engaged, and the dragon felt that Murtagh should follow suit. Murtagh, however, didn't want to bring a woman into the mess that was his life. It didn't seem right.

The little exchange between dragon and rider took less than a heartbeat, and Murtagh's face betrayed nothing. Alexander remained oblivious.

"Wh-" Murtagh stopped. He heard a twig snap across the stream. Judging by Alexander's sudden stillness, she heard it, too. Her eyes narrowed.

Silently, Alexander drew her long knife. Murtagh's eyes followed her movement; his hand instinctively rested on the hilt of his hand-and-half sword. Alexander raised a finger to her lips and shook her head. With a nod, Murtagh relaxed. The girl knew what she was doing, so he'd let her handle it.

Then, in on fluid motion, Alexander sprang into a crouch and threw her knife. A loud yelp and _thunk_ came from across the creek.

Murtagh rose as Alexander stood up straight. The look in the young woman's eyes was so cold and full of loathing that Murtagh took an unconscious step back wards. His looked across the stream at the person Alexander's icy rage was directed at.

Murtagh's eyebrows twitched upward. He was looking at the young man he watched Alexander fight with three days ago. The man's pale grey eyes showed hints of fear, but his expression was haughty and proud, despite the knife pinning his sleeve to the tree behind him. Murtagh searched his memory for his name.

"Mendhem," Alexander said coldly, filling Murtagh's blank. "What are you doing here?"

Mendhem swallowed visibly. The precocity of his situation seemed to be sinking in under the weight of Alexander's gaze. Murtagh wasn't about to get in the young woman's way; the incident in the town had put Mendhem in disfavour with the rider.

With three swift strides, Alexander leaped gracefully over the water and landed on the other side. She looked back at Murtagh. He followed her cautiously but confidently.

Mendhem's eyes flew to Murtagh angrily. Murtagh kept his expression neutral, holding the young man's grey eyes in an even gaze. Mendhem looked back at Alexander.

"What's this, Alex?" Mendhem sneered. "Who is this man? Shall I tell the town that I saw you flirting and rolling around in the forest with a stranger?"

Murtagh wanted to tell him they hadn't been flirting, but Thorn stopped him. _You _were _flirting, Murtagh. _Only years of practicing control over his emotions kept Murtagh from blushing.

Alexander's retort was heated with anger. "Tell the bloody town anything you want. There are already plenty of rumours about me; a new one won't make a difference."

A malicious smirk contorted Mendhem's handsome face. "Shall I test that theory, then?"

The urge to wrap his fingers around Mendhem's neck crossed Murtagh's mind. He turned to look at Alexander. Her face was still coldly indifferent, but Murtagh could see pain in her eyes.

Alexander moved forward slowly, smoothly, like carefully contained violence. Mendhem tried frantically to pull the knife out of the tree. It occurred to Murtagh the man could have just ripped his sleeve to free himself. _A merchant… Gods above, I will never understand merchants._

Despite the fact that Mendhem was pulling with all his strength, he couldn't pull the knife out, not one-handed. The blade had buried almost two-thirds its length into the tree. That Alexander had thrown the knife so powerfully with such precision with not even a heartbeat's space of time to aim was a very disquieting thought. The young mandolinist was very good.

Breath baited, Murtagh watched as Alexander came to halt about two feet from Mendhem, who stood deathly still. The young man's grey eyes were wide; his hand rested on the hilt of the knife, temporarily forgotten in his fear. Alexander's eyes filled with a dangerous, feral light as a matching smile played across her lips. In that instant, Murtagh knew that Mendhem was about to feel a lot of pain.

Mendhem saw it, too, and moved his hand from the knife hilt to defend himself. Unfortunately for him, though, Alexander was too fast, her hand flashing like a viper to grab his wrist to twist it in such a way as to render him helpless. She shoved Mendhem's elbow backward to strike against the tree behind him sharply. It wasn't broken, but the pain stunned Mendhem temporarily, and he wouldn't be able to use that arm for several hours.

A rasping whimper of pain came from the young man's throat, but the pain wasn't over yet. Alexander then gripped her knife's hilt tightly. Then, she brought her foot up and pushed herself off the tree through Mendhem's groin; an unearthly shriek ripped through the woods. The image would burn itself into Murtagh's memory.

Mendhem collapsed in a screaming heap as the knife came loose. A cold disdain filled Alexander's eyes as she stood above the writhing man. Stunned, Murtagh could only look on as the young woman sheathed her long knife.

"Be thankful I don't kill you," Alexander said in an eerily calm voice. "Out here, I sincerely doubt your body would be found."

Mendhem trembled pitifully from head to toe.

Bending at the knees, Alexander said, mouth next to Mendhem's ear, just loud enough for Murtagh to hear, "I'm going to take your bow and quiver, and then you will go back home. If you are not out of the woods by midnight, I will tell the wolves to hunt you down." The injured man let allowed the young woman to disarm him.

Standing smoothly, Alexander turned her back on Mendhem. She silently held the bow and quiver out to Murtagh. He took, them, though a bit hesitantly. Alexander then knelt by Mendhem again, who looked at her fearfully.

"I suggest you never come into these woods again. I'm not sure the wolves would appreciate your presence…" Alexander's tone was soft and almost friendly, and therefore disturbing. Then she stood and turned her back on the man, letting her hair fall around her face. "Best of luck."

With that, Alexander strode back to the brook without a second glance. Sensing that something was not right, Murtagh hurried after her. She leapt over the brook and stopped only to grab her mandolin and pack. Glancing over his shoulder, Murtagh noted that Mendhem was dragging himself back into the brush.

Alexander quickened her pace once they were out of sight of the stream. Something was definitely wrong, and Murtagh felt compelled to find out what. The young woman's brisk walk soon became a run, and Murtagh's worry grew.

Without warning, Alexander came to a very abrupt halt in a small mossy hollow. Murtagh almost ran into her back, but managed to stop himself in time. Transferring the quiver to his left hand, he reached his right hand out to the young woman's shoulder. When his hand came withing a hair's breadth of her shoulder, though, Alexander simply collapsed to the ground.

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gasp Not _another_ cliff-hanger! P


	6. Solace Intermezzo

As someone has pointed out… yes, I'm afraid this may become a Mary Sue. Damn……. Please don't shoot me! I'll try to put a good plot and good writing into it……. I promise!

Sorry for the loooong delay for this chapter… I haven't had time to type it up.

I do own neither the Inheritence trilogy nor its characters. The only things that are mine are my characters and this writing!

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Alexander could no longer stand; her legs simply gave out underneath her. Luckily, Murtagh caught her before she hit the ground. Vaguely, she was surprised at how gentle he was with her. Most of her mind was overwhelmed with a terrible and painful sadness and exhaustion, though.

Murtagh's voice came through the fog next to her ear. "Are you okay? Alex!"

Before she could stop herself, Alexander broke down crying. She was instantly horrified by this; she cried, _especially_ not in front of people! Worse, she hadn't the energy to stop Murtagh as he drew her into an embrace. All she could do was sob into the young man's chest and watch herself in shock. Alexander's body shook violently with her choked sobs. A soothing hand ran up and down her spine; the young woman felt her insides calm slightly. Her body still shook, and the tears still came fast and hot.

"Alex…" Murtagh's voice was soft, pleading. "Alex—"

"I hate him!" Alexander spat out, unable to stop herself. "Why must he always torment me!" A pained scream tore from her throat. She felt Murtagh flinch slightly. "He's always tried to be better than me! Everything I did, Mendhem tried to prove that he was better than me because he's a man! _Everything! _Music, fencing, archery, tracking! And then, when I always turned out better than him, he would spread rumours about me around town! My parents did nothing, of course, because, while they may have loved me, they couldn't afford to offend his parents. They were successful business partners, after all!"

Dizzy, Alexander had to stop to breathe for a bit. Murtagh was still save for the rising and falling of his chest. He remained silent, no longer running his hand along her back. Alexander wondered for a fleeting second what he was thinking, but plunged ahead with her venting. "Oh, I thought the rumours were bad _then!_ When I was commissioned by Galbatorix to be a Royal Musician at the age of fifteen, they got so much worse! That ass Mendhem was pissed that I'd been chosen instead of him! Now, he had me painted as a whore!"

Alexander shook violently and sobbed harder. The pain lanced through her heart like a spear. Once again, she felt Murtagh's hand rubbing her back. She was vaguely appalled that she was spilling her secret pains to a man she had only just met a few hours before, but she couldn't stop. It was like being swept up by a river; you can't fight it. You can only go with the current and hope for the best. Taking a shaky breath, Alexander continued. "My parents had set up an arranged marriage between Mendhem and me when I was seven, even though I had always hated him. When the rumours became unbearable, I begged my parents to call of the engagement. They refused, of course, turning a blind eye to everything. They had to do what's best for the business, you know? They loved me, but they didn't want to believe that they had made bad decisions… they didn't want to harm their success by angering Mendhem's parents.

"So, I spent as much time as I possible could in Uru'Baen performing for the aristocrats when I wasn't performing for Galbatorix. My music was quite popular, really. I missed my parents, but I couldn't stand being home and having to endure Mendhem. I visited my parents on holidays and maybe once every two months." Alexander let out a shaky sigh. When she continued her voice was soft, almost inaudible. She felt Murtagh move his ear closer to her head. "When I returned home a month after celebrating my sixteenth birthday in Uru'Baen with my friends among the Musicians, I was greeted with grave faces. The innkeeper was the one to tell me how my parent's had been killed by bandits en route to a big market. They left me a large inheritance, but I let Mendhem's parents take over the trading business. My first act now that I was free of my parents' authority was to call off my betrothal to Mendhem."

Alexander felt a laugh working its way up through her tears. It came out as subdued giggle. Murtagh jerked in surprise, which caused the giggle to grow louder. When Alexander continued, her voice was lighter and stronger. "Needless to say, Mendhem was enraged. He attacked me, and I have a strong suspicion of what he would have done had he been able to best me… But, of course, he lost the fight. I sent him running with a broken wrist. You should have seen his face when I grabbed the walking stick… Priceless."

A long sigh escaped Alexander's lips. She felt calm again, and the tears were now drying on her cheeks. Murtagh's shirt, on the other hand, was still damp… "So, that's how my present life came to be. Mendhem, being the thick-headed moron he is, still doesn't leave me alone. At least he hasn't tried to repeat any of his past mistakes. Rumours still abound about me in town, but I've learned to live with them. A few people have seen through them and side with me."

Alexander drew away from Murtagh, sitting and leaning back on her hands. Tilting her head to look Murtagh in the eyes, she asked him quietly, "So, I'll bet you think I'm really pathetic now, don't you?" She looked away.

"No." Alexander's head jerked up to look back at him. His eyes were intense, but his expression was soft and warm. "I only think more of you for this."

Some of Alexander's shock must have shown, because Murtagh laughed heartily. "What's so funny!"

A mischievous smile lit his face. "Your expression was priceless… it's not every day you see someone with red and poofy eyes looked shocked. It makes for a very interesting look."

A pause. Alexander's mouth gaped open, her expression scandalized. Murtagh started laughing again, and that was when she pounced. It was only a half-hearted leap, because her emotional episode had left Alexander feeling drained. Still, she didn't care.

Murtagh gave a whoop as he fell backward with Alexander's tackle. The play match was over withing seconds. He pinned her easily, among loud protests. Alexander squirmed, but she couldn't get free. Murtagh had pinned her arms and legs and put his full weight into holding her down. He was laughing uproariously.

Half laughing and smiling broadly, Alexander demanded loudly, "Let me go, you fiend!"

Smirking, Murtagh answered, "No." Instead, he plopped down on top of her. "You make a rather comfortable pillow."

Despite her lack of energy, Alexander managed to squirm violently. "Get off of me!" she shrieked through her giggling.

Murtagh rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine; a squirming pillow isn't that comfortable, anyway." He rolled off of her and lay on his side, propped up on his elbow. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and he still laughed softly.

"Oh, shut up." Alexander's voice was breathy from her exertions. She didn't have the energy to get up. Instead she lay on her back, glaring playfully at Murtagh. "Unghh… I don't feel like getting up…"

Murtagh chuckled. Already, Alexander loved his laughs. They had such a rich, warm feel. "Then don't get up; take a nap."

"Fine. I will." Alexander closed her eyes, and, although she had only been joking, she was asleep in mere seconds.

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**Tarwen Svit-kona**Oh, lots of things are wrong with her. We find out here!

**Dreamfantasy13**Thanks! I don't have much time to write, but I'll keep it up!

**BlackRoseOrchid**Updates… yeah… umm, about those… well, I updated now! My updates are very inconsistent due to high school, so it may take me anywhere from a week to a month and a half to update. But I won't let this story die!

**Ariel32**Muhuhu… Don't worry; I do the supense just to spite everyone. Thank you! Descriptions make the world go 'round. Am I a boy or girl?... Guess. Muhuhuu……..

'Kay, so, I know it's short, but that's as long as this chapter wanted to go. I'll try to make the next one longer, I promise!


	7. Fireside Nocturne

Lalala… Yes, folks. Alexander is a boy's name, but my character is a girl. Her parents were a bit odd…

I've decided that I'm going to try to steer this story away from Mary-Sue…ness. Here's hoping I don't crash.

And no, I don't own the Inheritance Trilogy. That's the brainchild of Mr. Paolini. I wish I could adopt it…

---------------------------

Murtagh's thoughts swarmed through his mind as he laid watching Alexander sleep. Growing up, he'd never had any close friends, so he'd never had the chance to play around and rough-house like a typical boy. Now, here he was, wrestling with a girl he'd only really met just a short while ago. Despite that, Murtagh felt like he'd known her since childhood. Her pain touched him, and he felt compelled to comfort her.

_You like her, _Thorn chuckled mentally. _Admit it._

Rolling his eyes, Murtagh sighed. _Not like _that_, Thorn._ He gazed thoughtfully at Alexander's sleeping form, her sides slowly rising and falling rhythmically. _She's... intriguing. I want to get to know her better._

_You'll have plenty of opportunity to get to know her _very_ well if she is, in fact, the next rider, _the dragon replied, subtle teasing colouring his mental voice ever so slightly.

Murtagh couldn't keep his face from colouring a bit, and bit back a cutting retort. Instead, he stood and stretched his back, inhaling the forest air deep into his lungs. It occurred to him then that the light quality was changing; evening was inching closer. _I'd better find food…I have a feeling Alex is going to be starving when she wakes up._

It didn't take Murtagh very long to find several edible mushrooms and herbs, as well as a wide, flat rock that would serve perfectly as a plate. He returned to the hollow where Alexander was sleeping and had a fire going, with the mushrooms roasting on the flat rock by the fireside, by the time the sky started showing hints of gold. As the mushrooms were getting close to finished, Murtagh added the herbs. The savoury smell made his mouth water, and caused Alexander to stir. She rolled over and pushed herself up, mumbling something that sounded like "Ay'Zat smllsg'd… 'ssat?"

Then, seeing Murtagh's questioning expression, Alexander blushed, obviously realizing that she must have uttered nonsense. She stood and walked over to the fire, sitting a near Murtagh, looking at the mushrooms. "Mushrooms? Those herbs smell wonderful… are they almost ready?"

Smiling Murtagh nodded. "Almost; it should only be another couple of minutes at the most."

Alexander nodded. Murtagh could tell that she was hungry, though, by the way she bit the inside of her lips and kept fidgeting with her fingers. He reached over and patted her shoulder. "Hang in there, Alex. They're almost done!"

The young woman looked ruefully at Murtagh, asking, "Is it really that obvious?"

Cocking his head toward her, Murtagh replied, "Is water wet?"

Alexander heaved a playfully vexed sigh, rolling her eyes. They spent the next few minutes in amiable silence as the sun edged closer to the horizon. Finally, Murtagh deemed the mushrooms done, and poked a stick through one, blowing on it to cool it down. Alexander's sharp mint eyes were fixed intently on him. Taking a small bite, Murtagh chewed it carefully. Swallowing, he smiled brightly at Alexander and said, "Dig in."

She did just that, with much enthusiasm. She'd finished two by the time Murtagh was finished with just one. After those initial two, though, Alexander slowed down enough to talk.

"How'd you learn to cook like this?" she asked, admiration clearly audible in her voice.

Murtagh chewed his mouthful and then answered with a small smile, "My mother and father left to go places a lot, so I had to learn to provide for myself." It was partly true, after all.

Alexander accepted his answer with a knowing nod and continued to chew on her third mushroom. Murtagh couldn't help notice how the fading, orange-tinted sunlight fell on her face and lit her hair like the slowly dying fire before them. Quickly, he turned back to his second mushroom before Alexander could catch him staring. His attention became caught up in the dancing flames of the fire; the flickering, perpetually moving tongues were incredibly hypnotic.

A loud, content sigh broke Murtagh from his reverie. Glancing to his side, he saw Alexander smiling happily, turning her little stick around between her fingers. Murtagh tossed his stick into the fire, watching it crackle in the flames. They'd eaten all five of the mushrooms fairly quickly; they had been rather large ones, too. Alexander rolled onto her back, obviously fully sated.

"Damn…" she sighed. "I never thought anyone other than mothers could cook that well."

Murtagh flicked a twig at Alexander, saying, "Are you suggesting something!"

The firelight danced mischievously in the young woman's eyes. "Maybe," she replied tauntingly.

"Now, let's not get into that again," Murtagh chided mockingly. "I don't want to have to humiliate you yet again."

A scowl formed on Alexander's face, and she looked as if she were about to lunge at Murtagh. Then, with a sigh, she relaxed and rolled her eyes. "Well, you do have an unfair advantage over me in being male."

"Would you rather I go easy on you," Murtagh taunted, laying back and turning his head to look at Alexander.

She just glared at him until he burst into laughter. Alexander's stern façade quickly crumbled and gave way to peals of laughter. The laughter tapered off, and the two lay peacefully on the ground, staring taunts at each other in the dusky light.

Alexander was the one to break the silence, heaving a sigh as she sat up. "We should get ready for the night," she said, glancing up into the trees at the sound of rustling leaves. "It's going to get cold tonight; do you have a warm blanket?"

Murtagh reluctantly sat and drew his pack to him. "Yeah, I'll be fine," he answered, pulling a thick blanket out. The thought of Thorn's warm wings briefly flashed through Murtagh's mind, and he reached out instinctively to the dragon. A warm, comforting emotion from Thorn quickly quelled Murtagh's feelings. Luckily, Alexander didn't seem to notice, and instead was pulling out her own blanket; it was moderately thinner than Murtagh's, he noticed with a touch of concern. "Will _you_ be okay, though? Your blanket doesn't seem very thick."

The _eyeroll_ again. "I assure you Murtagh, I've been through worse with less. I'll be fine. Besides," she continued with a hint of teacher-like condescension, "this blanket is made of the finest, warmest wool money can buy. My parents _were_, may I remind you, very successful merchants."

"Okay, Alex… no need to take that tone," Murtagh said, reclining by the now small and lazy fire with his blanket.

Alexander lay on her side on the opposite side of the fire, clutching her blanket around her. "What tone?" she shot back heatedly, her drooping eyelids betraying her sleepiness.

Yet another sigh escaped Murtagh as he gently ordered, "Go to sleep, Alex." Under his breath, he repeated himself in the Ancient Language. A gentle smile warmed his face as Alexander fell peacefully off to sleep.

_Are you certain you don't feel anything more a brotherly love for her? _Thorn's snide voice teased in Murtagh's head.

_I'm positive, Thorn!_ Murtagh spat back irritably, even though something told him he could be wrong.

Thorn sensed it, of course. _You're lying, Murtagh. _The triumph in his voice was enough to make Murtagh clench his fists. _Come on, admit it. You're falling for her._

_Shut up, Thorn! _Murtagh practically yelled in his mind. _Okay, maybe you're right! But it won't work out! Think about it. What do you think her reaction will be if she does, in fact turn out to be a Ride? I'd be one who brought her to become Galbatorix's slave!_

There was a pause as Thorn seemed to weigh his answer. _I see your predicament, but I don't have a solution at the moment. Sleep on it. It's been a long day._

Silently, Murtagh acquiesced and let the sputtering embers of the fire lull him to sleep.

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Gah…. Sorry it's so short this time, guys! But it's honestly the best I could come up with! Better than nothing, right?

**Ariel32: **Maybe… Guess away. I'd think it would be obvious, so if you guess wrong, it'll give me a good laugh.

**moonlitStarDestiny**Thankies! English AP pays off…

**iluvSarmatianKnights**Muhuhuhu… yeah… that's going to be interesting… and fun to write……. plot

**cooking: **Awe! I feel so honoured!

**silver sliver: **Never underestimate the suspicious nature of humans… coughspanishinquisitioncough-cough I decided that Alexander is a much cooler and more fitting name for my character than Alexandria.

**booksquirt: **I like switching POV's every chapter, though. It keeps things interesting, for me at least. Seeing things only from one point of view gets boring after a while; I want to know what some of the other characters are thinking! What will happen when Alexander becomes a rider and finds out all about Galbatorix? Wooo… We'll find out! It's looking to be quite spectacular.


	8. Freefall Fantasia

Sooo… disclaimer I do not own Murgtagh and Thorn or Alagaesia. They belong to the splendiferous Christopher Paolini. How I envy him.

PS Come on, folks! Guess my gender! Even if you get it right, I wont tell you, though… it's more for personal amusement. Seriously, is it not obvious?

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_The wind rushed past, sweeping Alexander's hair into a copper coloured banner behind her. Higher, higher, they went. Who was this friendly stranger dressed in red, pulling her upward into the sky? She felt knew him…but she couldn't quite remember. His face was shrouded in shadow, looking upward, his hair whipping his face._

_Exhilaration… hope… trepidation…_

_Higher and higher. _

_His arms held her firmly against him. He wouldn't let her fall. Alexander trusted him…_

_It was hard to breathe now. The clouds were a wet mist that parted soundlessly for them._

_Alexander tried to shout, "Who are you? How high are we going?" but no sound came out. Her heart beat hard and fast, like a hawk trying to beat its way out of her chest._

_Then, suddenly, they stopped rising. The moment seemed to last forever, the two of them hanging in mid-air above the snow-white clouds. The man tilted his face down toward Alexander, but it was still hidden in shadow except for his gentle smile._

_Alexander's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream as she felt gravity start to tug them down back to earth. But, once again, she couldn't seem to get any sound out of her mouth._

_Terror… confusion…dread…_

_Faster and faster they dropped out of the sky. Still, the smile stayed on the man's face. Still, Alexander couldn't remember who he was._

_Faster and faster…Alexander's heart raced as if it were trying to match their speed. Her chest felt as if would burst. The man's arms tightened their hold on her, but not to an uncomfortable level. His smile turned bitter._

"_I'm sorry," came a whisper to Alexander's ear, though the man's lips didn't move._

_Then, they crashed through the surface of a lake. It felt like glass shattering under Alexander's back._

_She tried desperately to twist out of the man's grasp, but he held her in an iron grip. The sun grew smaller and smaller, a quivering dot of light slowly, agonizingly slowly, being swallowed by inky blue. _

_As Alexander's breathe began to run out, she turned a panicked face to the man who held her. Her insides froze as she finally saw his face and recognized him._

"_Murtagh… why?" she whispered, though she didn't open her mouth and there was no air to speak into._

Alexander woke with a gasp, sitting bold upright. Her breathing was ragged as she hugged her blanket around herself. She whipped her head around to Murtagh, stirring awake across the charred remains of the fire.

He sat slowly and cast a worried look at the young woman. "Alex, are you okay?" he asked quietly as she wiped sweat from her forehead.

A blade of terror tore through Alexander's chest briefly, but her sense quickly gained control of it. A little shakily, she replied, "I'm fine; it was just a bad dream." She couldn't look him in the eyes.

Murtagh seemed to sense that something was amiss and walked over to Alexander. She drew a sharp breath as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her instincts told her to run, but her reason kept her in place. _It was just a dream, Alex! _she told herself sternly in her mind.

She forced herself to meet Murtagh's kind brown eyes and said, in the steadiest, most confident tone she could manage, "Really, Murtagh. I'm alright. It's nothing for you to be concerned about."

Luckily, Murtagh seemed to accept her assurances and nodded, withdrawing his hand from her shoulder. They sat in the morning stillness for a couple seconds before Murtagh sighed and stood up.

"We should return to town, don't you think?" he asked, peering into the treetops.

Shrugging, Alexander half-heartedly replied, "Maybe… I suppose if you want to go back, I'll go with you." Truth be told, she could have lived out the rest of her life in the forest and not give a whit about the outside world if it weren't for her musical career. It was this and only this that kept drawing Alexander out of solitude to endure civilization.

Turning to her, Murtagh questioned, "Why are you so reluctant to return to town? Is it Mendhem?"

With a sigh, Alexander began to roll up her blanket and stuff it in her pack as she answered him. "It's not just Mendhem. It's everyone. I feel like I don't belong anywhere, like a key without a lock. The only place I feel at home is the wilds. No one's judging me here. Now, don't get me wrong; I love my musician friends in Uru'Baen, and they love me back, but… the forest is so peaceful. I feel like it's watching over me. Uru'Baen gives me the feeling that eyes are constantly sizing me up, putting labels on me."

Murtagh nodded. "I understand completely. Don't you think I've had my own share of judgement? The aristocrats are the most judgemental people of all, too."

"That's true," Alexander said, closing her pack. Standing, she shouldered her pack and quiver and took her mandolin case in her hand. "Well, then, we should be on our way, huh?"

Smiling, Murtagh gathered his pack and nodded. "Lead the way, Alex."

They walked all morning and stopped to eat a quick lunch, a few bites of hardening bread and cheese washed down with stream water. It was mid-afternoon when Alexander and Murtagh reached town. They made their way to the young woman's house without running into any questions.

The two were laughing and telling jokes as they walked up the steps of Alexander's large, two-story wooden house. Suddenly, Alexander froze, sensing something was off. Murtagh opened his mouth as if to ask her what was wrong, but she held up her hand to silence him. He raised an eyebrow, and Alexander put her index finger to her lips, indicating that they needed to remain silent.

She couldn't quite place what made her uneasy… but something was definitely off. As they approached slowly and quietly, Alexander began to notice little things that were out of place: her welcome rug on the porch was crooked by several inches, a chair she'd left on the porch had been moved half a foot, and a window's curtains were closed as opposed to open as she had left them. _Did someone break in? _Alexander wondered. Then, it clicked. _Of course! Mendhem. No doubt I wounded his pride in the forest and he decided to get back at me by breaking into my house and ambushing me…Jeez, and I thought he was stupid before…_She lowered her things to the ground, careful not to bump anything and give away her presence. Murtagh did the same with his pack.

Alexander held her breath as she slowly turned the door handle and opened the door without noise. When it was open about a foot and a half, she slipped inside and glanced around the entrance hall. It was clear. Alexander motioned for Murtagh to follow her with a wave of her hand and tiptoed to the doorway of her sitting room, flattening herself against the wall outside the doorjamb. Then, she peeked around the doorjamb into the room. There sat Mendhem, smug in one of Alexander's plush armchairs with his feet up on the footrest, going through a small chest of fine cloth Alexander's mother and father had bought from a trader. The sight made her blood boil.

Eyes narrowed, Alexander slid a secret lock back on the side of a large armoire, still careful even through her rage to shield the mechanism from Murtagh. She pulled a drawer containing five swords out and picked up a medium-weight sabre. Murtagh's eyes widened and he reached out a hand to restrain her, but she shook her head and held up her left hand. _He's gone too far, but that still doesn't justify killing him, I know, _Alexander tried to convey through her facial expression.

Murtagh seemed to get the message and stepped back to allow Alexander plenty of room, for which she was grateful. There was no telling how hectic things would get…

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**nitemarereader: **Life has a way of getting in the way of creation… I also happen to be a visual artist as well as a beginning mandolin in my last year of high school, so my time's in rather….. short supply.

**alsdssg: **Galbatorix will come up soon, don't fret. We just have to get through some more ass-kicking first.

**Dreamfantasy13: **Thanks! I like her personality, too… I wish I could meet her in real life. Heheh… I couldn't abandon this story… I just kinda went on hiatus. But I'm baaaack!


	9. The Retaliatory Reels

Sorry it's taken so long to update, again. School and work were taking up all of my time, so that I barely had time even for art. Work is over for the season, though, so I have a bit of free time for the time being.

I've decided to rename the story and chapter titles to something more reflective of Alexander… Any comments?

Murtagh, Thorn, Galbatorix, and Alagaesia © Christopher Paolini

Everything else © ME.

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_You're not going to restrain her? _Thorn asked, astonishment in his mind-voice.

_She's not going to kill him, _Murtagh assured the dragon. _She's only going to scare him…and maybe give him a few scrapes and bruises to teach him a lesson._

He could feel Thorn's scepticism and expected the dragon to say something more, but received nothing but silent watchfulness from the other end. A smirked crossed Murtagh's face; his dragon was going to watch out of curiosity.

Alexander had been slowly creeping toward the doorway, keeping out of Mendhem's line of sight. Suddenly, when she had reached the edge of the doorway, she spun into the room, kicking a small wooden box off a display table toward Mendhem. Murtagh's eyebrows raised as the box hit the intruder squarely in the head.

Mendhem swore loudly and dropped the chest of cloth, standing with his fists raised. His rage was quickly replaced with terror as he noticed Alexander's sabre swinging toward his head. He ducked and avoided the swing, but had to quickly leap away as the blade's point stabbed toward his chest.

To Mendhem, Alexander's attacks looked very real and deadly, but Murtagh could see that she was deliberately missing; her attacks were slower than what Murtagh knew was her full speed from their first encounter in the forest.

A powerful sidekick sent Mendhem flying out of the sitting room and into the front entry. Murtagh quickly scooted out of the way as Mendhem leaped up out of the way of Alexander's next sword sweep. As fast as Mendhem moved out of the sword's way, he was still sent into the wall by the door by Alexander's follow-up kick. Another loud curse erupted from Mendhem's mouth as he jerked out of the way of the next stab. The sabre point embedded itself two inches into the wood. Mendhem grabbed the door handle and swung the door open as fast as he could. It still wasn't fast enough. Alexander landed one last well-aimed kick on his rump that sent him airborne as she freed her sword. Mendhem landed on the porch with a resounding _thump_ and rolled down the steps onto the ground in front of the house.

Alexander walked calmly out onto the porch and stood a few feet from the door. Murtagh stayed just on the inside of the doorway. He couldn't see Alexander's face, but judging from her stance he guessed it was an ice-cold glare that could freeze a boiling pot of water in a second.

"I thought you were stupid before, Mendhem," Alexander said, her voice as sharp as her sabre, "but _this_ surpasses anything and_ everything_ with even a minute resemblance of human intelligence." She paused as Mendhem started to push himself off the ground. "If you _ever _touch my things again, I will give you a beating so vicious you'll be crippled for life. I want you to _stay away_ from me. Now, get out of my sight before I decide to spit you on my sword."

Mendhem stood, and Murtagh could see a few nasty scrapes on his face. "Damn you, you _whore!_" Mendhem yelled and spat on the ground. "May your limbs rot off!"

Then, he lurched off toward his home. Once Mendhem was out of sight, Alexander heaved a huge sigh and turned tiredly to Murtagh. With a small rueful smile, she shrugged and remarked, "He didn't put up near as much fight as I'd hoped. What a pity…" With a wistful expression, she skirted around Murtagh and walked back into the front entry.

_She's scary when she's angry, _Thorn commented drily. _Did you see howher sabre stuck in the wall?_

_Of course I saw it, _Murtagh replied, turning back inside and shutting the door. Alexander had returned her sabre to its drawer and was leaning against the wall, staring into space with an empty expression. Feeling concerned, Murtagh walked over and stood in front of her.

Putting his hand on her shoulder, he inquired, "Alex, are you alright?"

Alexander continued to stare into space, her head tilted slightly to the side. "I'm tired of this town, of _him._ I'm leaving to Uru'Baen tomorrow. You can come with me, if you want."

_Now, isn't _that_ convenient? _Thorn exclaimed as the young woman walked into the room opposite the sitting room. Murtagh could practically _see_ the dragon's toothy smile.

He remained silent, not answering Thorn's cheeky question. Instead he followed Alexander into what he found was a dining room. Alexander was sitting at the large oaken table, resting her head on her crossed arms. Murtagh's first thought was that she was crying, but he quickly saw that her breathing was calm and steady. He sat down next to Alexander, but couldn't think of what to say. Luckily, she spared him the awkward task of fumbling for words by speaking herself.

"I'm tired of this town," she murmured, the weariness in her voice clearly audible despite the muffling of her words. "I'm tired of the people. I've never fit here, and I don't feel like trying any more. At least I have friends in Uru'Baen."

Murtagh managed to find his voice. "Will you leave all your things here?"

Alexander laughed wryly and lifted her head to look at Murtagh. "I've already relocated most of my belongings to my residence in Uru'Baen. All that remains here are the swords you saw, a few clothes, and a few chests of random things. I have a small cart and mule at the stable that can carry it all easily."

"All right then. What needs to be packed up?"

"My clothes are already in a trunk, so that leaves only the swords," Alexander said. With a thoughtful frown she muttered, "I suppose I'll have to sell the house. I'd rather pull my own teeth than sell it to Mendhem's family… luckily, the stable master has been eyeing my house. He made me a decent offer a few weeks ago."

A loud rumble interrupted her musings. Murtagh raised an aeyebrow.

"Hungry, are we?"

Poking her stomach, Alexander pulled a face and gave him a grudging, "Yes…"

Laughing, Murtagh stood and patted the young woman on the back. "I'll make us something to eat. I can use your oven, right?"

"Yeah; I have a vegetable garden behind the house. I'll see if there's anything still growing." She paused in the doorway. "The wood pile is next to the stove, before you ask." With that, she walked out.

Murtagh sighed, watching her leave the room. As he loaded wood into the oven, Thorn connected with his rider again. _She's an interesting woman. She has all the strength of character to be a dragon rider, and more._

_Yes, but do we want to sell her out to Galbatorix if she is, indeed the next rider? _Murtagh questioned sullenly as he stuffed another log into the oven and whispered, "Brisingr." _She'll hate me for it._

All he received from his dragon was an uneasy silence, in which he could almost physically feel Thorn's fidgeting.

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**VixenHood: **Thanks! I prefer strong female characters.

**alsdssg: **Yeah… I never intended Mendhem to be the brightest crayon in the box. I have to admit, though, his stupidity surprised even me. Galbatorix is probably coming in the next chapter; if not then, the next, I swear!

**EragonWriter: **Thank you. I agree that their manner of speaking isn't very representative of a medieval time period, but I'm not nearly familiar with those dialects. Were I to try that speaking style, the dialogue wouldn't feel natural and would restrict the story. Also, true medieval English is entirely different from modern English, almost another language. Plus, I'm trying to imitate Paolini's writing style or world; rather, I'm creating my own unique interperetation.

**Dreamfantasy13: **Lol Thank you! I'm actually still not sure whether we will have Alex/Murtagh. We'll see. If we do, I won't rush it.

**The Gandhara: **Murtagh doesn't want to antagonise Alexander! He wants to cultivate a friendship with her.

**A Kiss Before Dying: **Thanks! I have tried to steer Alexander away from Mary-Sue-dom…. Dang; what a word…

Aaaaaand another chapter done! Sheesh… took me long enough, huh? I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter.

I'll try to introduce Galbatorix in the next chapter, too, as well as a few more new characters. No more Mendhem (I hope; I really do hate him XP)! W00t!


	10. Back Home Breakdown

Aaaand here we are again! I could probably be spending my time on many better things, like homework, for example, butttt…

a few weeks later

Umm… yeah; I started this chapter ages ago, it seems, but had an ungodly amount of homework to do, so I haven't had time to write until now. Thank you, God, for Spring Break.

a few months later ….. ehem… I think a little apology on my part is in order for taking soooo freaking long to finish this chapter. What can I say? I got busy… school, graduating, three weeks in the British Isles… you might know the feeling.

Murtagh, Thorn, Alagaesia, and Galbatorix © Christopher Paolini

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Several weeks had passed, and now Alexander found herself entering Uru'Baen. Murtagh rode beside her on a sturdy bay gelding that had been a favourite of Alexander's mother. He'd seemed distracted for the past few days, gazing off into space and zoning out during conversation. Alexander found it a little unnerving, especially as her companion's melancholy mood rubbed off on her. She hoped, now that they had reached their destination, his mood would improve.

Eager to see her Uru'Baen home and friends, Alexander urged her mount- a handsome, elegant black stallion named Dreiden who'd been a gift from her parents- to a slightly faster pace through the throng of passers-by in the street. _Come on, dearie, almost there. And then you can have some apples! _she thought to Dreiden, stroking his smooth neck. The stallion happily complied.

Alexander glanced back to make sure that Murtagh stayed with her. He caught her eyes as he drew his horse, a sturdy bay gelding named Loklan whom Alexander had leant him, up next to her. The pack mule, called simply Mule, followed sedately, led by his lead rope which Murtagh had volunteered to hold on this particular day.

"Anxious to arrive back home, are we?" Murtagh asked with a wry quirk to his lips.

_Oh, good. He's got back some of his humour, _Alexander thought. Out loud, she answered, "Of course I am. Aren't you eager to finally be off the road and settle into a comfortable, plush armchair by the fire?"

"Why would I need to warm myself by the fire when the weather is turning warmer?"

"You know what I meant!"

"Do I?

They continued bantering until they at last arrived at the courtyard of a good-sized stone house of two floors in the wealthy merchants' area of town. Alexander's heart warmed at the sight of her Uru'Baen home.

As she and Murtagh dismounted, a servant came hurrying from the front door to greet them.

"Ah! Mistress Alexander! You've returned!" the middle-aged man exclaimed with enthusiasm, casting a brief curious glance at Murtagh. "Please, allow me to take charge of the horses and baggage."

Alexander's heart warmed at the sight of her servant. Smiling broadly, she replied, "Thank you, Norden. I really appreciate it." After sliding down from her saddle, Alexander beckoned Murtagh over. "Norden, this is Murtagh; we met in my home town and decided to travel together, since we were both planning on travelling here. Murtagh, this is my faithful servant, Norden. He's been with my family since as long as I can remember."

The two men shook hands cordially. Alexander was pleased to see that Norden seemed to have gotten a good impression of Murtagh; the older man had developed a tendency to be very protective of her since her parents had died.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Master Murtagh," Norden said warmly. "Please, don't let me keep the two of you out any longer. Go! We've just finished the midday meal; hurry, before it grows cold and Selda throws out the remnants!"

Grabbing Murtagh by the arm, Alexander obeyed her servant, calling over her shoulder as she walked briskly up the front steps of her home, "Thank you Norden!" Under her breath, Alexander explained quickly to Murtagh, "Norden's cousin, Selda is one of the best cooks I've ever known! After two weeks of foraging and campfire cooking, I don't want to wait any longer than necessary to her food."

As they entered through the doors, the aromas of rich, savoury cooking made Alexander's mouth water fiercely. Still towing Murtagh, she entered the dining room with a rumbing stomach.

A woman around Norden's age stood stooped to clear the meal from the table. She stopped in mid-motion, her mouth dropping open with surprise and joy.

"Alexander! You've returned!"

Alexander finally let go of Murtagh's arm to embrace Selda warmly. "Of course I came back! Not even a horde of Urgals could keep me away from your cooking for long."

Laughing, Selda looked up and saw Murtagh. With a twinkle in her eye, the older woman asked Alexander, "And who might this strapping young lad be?"

Alexander felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks, but felt an ever-so-slightly sadistic triumph when she saw an ever redder blush on Murtagh's face.

"Oh, this is my friend Murtagh. We met in my hometown, and decided to travel together since we were both headed to Uru'Baen- and, yes, Selda, dear, we're _just _friends."

"Uh-huuuuhhhhhh… Of course, love," Selda replied with her not-so-subtle fake-belief tone. Shaking her head, she motioned for them to sit down and eat.

Almost before Alexander realized it, all the food was gone, now digesting in Murtagh and Alexander's stomachs. Now they sat with dazed expressions, leaning back in their chairs contentedly.

"Selda… Never leave me. I don't think I could face the world if I couldn't have your food," Alexander sighed.

"That food was unnaturally good," said Murtagh.

"Why thank you, children!" Selda chirped. "Now, you two look exhausted. Why don't you go to sleep for the night? You are staying the night, aren't you, Murtagh, dear?" Not waiting for an answer, the older woman continued cheerily, "All the beds have been made, and Murtagh, there are some extra clothes in the guest room you can borrow."

"Thank you, ma'am," Murtagh said gratefully with a bow of his head.

"Thanks, Selda, so much," Alexander said, hugging the older woman warmly.

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A ray of obnoxiously cheery sunlight woke Alexander from her blissful sleep. She responded to this unwelcome intruder by groaning incoherently. Apparently she had been too tired the night before to remember to draw the heavy drapes shut over her window. The reason Alexander had bought those thick drapes was because she often did concerts late into the night and consequently slept in a lot.

Since she was awake, she decided that she might as well rise for the day and dressed in a nice, airy, light-green and cream coloured outfit, knowing how hot the city could get. Alexander did up her hair in a bun using two sticks of pale wood, with strands of copper hair trailing loose. She wanted to look nice today, since she would be calling on friends.

After putting on a pair of supple leather knee-high boots over her trousers, Alexander walked to Murtagh's door and knocked three hard raps. A groan similar to hers except deeper (as it came from a man) emitted through the wood of the door.

"Wake up, sleepy-head! We've already slept half the morning away!" Alexander called through the door. "Don't you want to meet my friends?"

There was a slight pause, then heavy footsteps toward the door. The door creaked open a few inches to reveal a sleep-tousled Murtagh in a nightshirt Alexander recognized as having once belonged to her father. "Give me a couple minutes," Murtagh mumbled, eyes still a little bleary.

"Meet me downstairs in the dining room when you're ready; Selda will probably have a lovely late breakfast ready for us."

That was enough to light a fire in Murtagh's eyes. Alexander knew he'd hurry to ready himself.

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A half hour later, Alexander and Murtagh were coming up to one of her friend's homes, a suite in a well-to-do building in a well-to-do neighbourhood. After a polite knock on the door from Alexander, a friendly brunette head popped out with a cheery smile. When the woman saw Alexander, her smile widened as she exclaimed, "Alex!" and embraced her friend.

Alexander could have sworn she heard a rib crack, and coughed politely. "Umm, Cynthia, dear, I can't breathe!" she squeezed out.

"Oh!" Cynthia exclaimed, quickly releasing Alexander. "I've just missed you so much!"

"You always do, Cynth," Alexander replied, laughing lightly, still slightly winded. She suddenly remembered Murtagh and spun, gesturing to him. "Cynthia, this is Murtagh, a friend I met at my home town. Murtagh, this is my good friend Cynthia, an excellent flutist."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cynthia," Murtagh said, giving a polite bow of the head.

Grinning, Cynthia waved her hand as if to brush the compliment away. "Oh, the pleasure is all mine! Would you two like some tea and biscuits?"

"Why, of course, Cynth! You know I love your biscuits," Alexander said warmly.

The day continued along this theme, as Alexander introduced Murtagh to all of her friends, most of them fellow musicians, within a reasonable distance. Finally, as the sun edged lower in the sky towards sunset, they came to the last house, a large house half-an-hour away from Alexander's residence. A strange nervousness tittered in Alexander's chest as she approached the door.

"What's wrong?" Murtagh enquired softly. "You seem nervous."

Alexander sighed. "This is where my… best friend, Lanner, lives. He doesn't like me going back to my home town; says it depresses me too much."

They came to the door, at last, and Alexander raised her hand to grasp the brass knocker. Just as she fingertips brushed the metal, the door opened. Lanner stood there, his mid-back length mouse-brown hanging loose in light curls. His expression was a mix of disproval, concern, happiness, and something Alexander couldn't identify.

Before she could react, Lanner grabbed Alexander in a tight hug.

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Mwahahahahaaaaaa!!! Another cliff-hanger!!! Nyah, nyah! P At least I finally got around to finishing this bloody chapter.

I swear I'll try not to take so long with the next one, but keep in mind that I _am_ starting college this fall. I'm also leaving in a couple days on another three-week trip. We'll see!

**katemary77: **Thanks! I hate stories where the characters make out in like the first chapter… it's annoying.

**alsdssg**Yeah… but it makes for an interesting story. Or at least that's what I'm trying for.

**wolf.gren: **I'm glad you like it! To answer your questions: whether or not the dream is foreshadowing Murtagh's betrayal will be revealed later! wink-wink Alexander's ability to communicate with animals can be through actual words, but she prefers to do it through thoughts; it makes her look less of a loony that way. She was born with her ability. I took the idea from something Brom said to Eragon in the first book about rare people who can communicate with animals. The reason for Alex's ferocity _is_ the betrothal, along with her relationship with her parents and Mendhem's poisoning most of her home town against her. It naturally makes a person bitter. As to the relationship between Murtagh and Alex, you'll have to wait and see!

**thechosenMay**On the contrary, I do give criticism thought. When it's constructive, it helps develop one's skills. I have been trying to develop Alex's character; I'd like to point out that your comment is on Ch. 2, and this is Ch. 10. But thank you, anyway. I'm trying to steer away from Mary-Sue-dom… but we'll see how successful I am.

**Dreamfantasy13: **Thanks! I'm not really trying to emulate Paolini's style. It's my own.

**De Code Master: **ducks from scream Thank you! I'm glad you think I'm a good writer. I have to say, though, that I should have some writing skills after two years of AP English classes with tough teachers. And as for Mendhem, I can't say for sure that he's gone for good, but I hope so, too! I hate the slug… So you think I'm a girl… well, now, I don't feel like revealing my gender just yet, so nyah! Sorry for the looooong delayed update!

**Mina the Mischevious: **Thank you! I'm glad you like the storyline.

**Fricai: **To answer your questions, all will be revealed in the future! Mwahahahahaaaa, how's that for an evasive answer? And sorry for the not-updating-for-months thing! Life happens, ya know?

**EragonPeep: **Only five months? I though it was more like six… lol But really, sorry for taking so long! I'll try not to take so long with the next one. But… no promises…

**My-Lover-Gren-Gren: **I know, I know, I took forever! But here's the chapter! Now there's a thought. Maybe I _should_ have Thorn eat Mendhem… Mwahahahahaaa! I'm not introducing Thorn to Alex until she's a rider herself, which will take at least a couple more chapters, so you'll just have to wait P


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